


Tag, you're I.T.

by Brackish



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Attempt at Humor, Awkward Flirting, Awkwardness, Clexa, College, Computer Problems, Desperate student Clarke, Dorms, F/F, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Humor, I.T. worker Lexa, It's been a while, One Shot, This is my way of procrastinating, University
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-19
Updated: 2017-04-19
Packaged: 2018-10-20 21:22:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,396
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10671027
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Brackish/pseuds/Brackish
Summary: Lexa's volunteered to do the University's I.T. helpdesk graveyard shift. Unsurprisingly, she's absolutely bored out of her brains - that is, until she gets a call from a student on-campus having problems submitting an assignment that's due in a couple of hours.





	Tag, you're I.T.

“... and have you tried turning it off and on again? I - sorry? Yes, that should - _yes_ . Yes. Click on the _start_ button. Start. Bottom left. Yes. Left mouse button. The left. Left. Are you left handed? Then - imagine that the mouse is - left mouse button, sir. Yes - that’s correct. Now press _power_. Good. Restart. That’s right. I - no, sir, it’s not broken, it’s just restarting. It’ll - it’ll be back in a moment. Yes, I’m sure. No, sir, I -”

_Click._

Lexa sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose as she hung up the receiver.

She didn’t exactly _hate_ the graveyard shift; after all, she’d probably still be up around this time anyway. Still, she could think of at least _one_ other place she’d rather be, than sat in a rickety office chair somewhere in a campus basement. Her bed sprung to mind, and despite living in a dorm, the scratchy woolen covers seemed infinitely more enticing.

Lexa tugged at the collar of he sweater, and at the bright green lanyard hanging from her neck. She glanced idly at the empty seat that sat beside her in the tiny I.T. department office, envious of the previous volunteer who she had relieved. _They_ would be in bed somewhere, snugged up and fresh from a hot shower, maybe with a cup of tea, _maybe_ in the arms of someone -

Lexa sighed again, furrowing her brow and rubbing feverishly at her eyes behind skewed glasses.

It _had_ been a while, after all.

Lexa glanced hesitantly at her watch, knowing full well that she hadn’t slipped into a time-spiral and ended up on the distant end of her assigned three-hour shift at the I.T. desk. Even so, she still let slip a quiet groan when her watch told her she’d only been sat down for a brief fifteen minutes.

12:15 AM. Two hours, forty-five minutes to go.

Lexa glared at the screen, chin in hand and fumbling around with the icons on-screen. There really wasn’t much for her to do; she had already finished her assigned readings and prep, and thanks to the University access policy, browsing hours upon hours of mindless YouTube videos was out of the question too. Really, she should have known by now that she ought to bring a book, but even that would only capture her attention for so long before she grew bored again.

Lexa wrinkled her nose. She reached absent-mindedly for her KeepCup knowing full well that it was already empty, but nonetheless lifting it to her lips in hopes that the caffeine deities had been kind enough to fill her cup.

No such luck. Probably for the best - after all, coffee had long since lost it’s effect on Lexa. She could sleep like a log after a couple of shots of strong espresso. Anya had often said that she wasn’t sure whether she ought to be proud or worried by this ability.

Mind-numbing as it was, it wasn’t arduous work at least, and though she wasn’t being paid, she _was_ being compensated in credits. The educational security made listening to nigh-luddite level technological incompetence almost worth it.

It may have been because Lexa was praying extra hard that night for something interesting to happen, that she suddenly received a call from a campus dorm. She had been reclined in her chair, seeing how far she could lean back without it tipping over, when her desktop phone burst to life, almost sending her crashing into the concrete floor. Composing herself, and stilling her beating heart, she brushed her wayward curls from her face, and picked up the call.

“Hello, I.T. department.”

A sigh of relief came through from the other end. “Wow, I - Thank _god_ ; I didn’t think anyone would _actually_ pick-up.”

Lexa stifled a yawn with the back of her free hand. “24 hours a day, miss.” She said, pushing her glasses up her nose.

The girl on the other end gave an exasperated, but strangely relieved laugh. “My hero.”

At that moment, several thoughts went through Lexa’s head.

The first was; _That’s a really nice laugh._

The second was; _I wonder what she looks like._

The third was; _Fuck, I hope I didn’t make a weird noise into the receiver._

Lexa cleared her throat. “So, can I help, with - what do you - something... wrong?”

Another laugh floated through. “Yeah, I uh - I’m trying to submit an essay, but something’s - the web page won’t - _work_.”

Lexa quirked an eyebrow. “Won’t… work? Won’t work, how?”

Lexa could have sworn she heard the girl shrug.

“No idea. Just won’t load, or something. Thoughts?”

Lexa frowned, a string of instructions running through her head. “Alright, try -”

Lexa didn’t even manage to talk for a full five-seconds before the other girl cut her off.

“Sorry - _no idea_ what you just said.”

Lexa rolled her eyes. “Right.”

“Listen, you’re - you’re on campus, right? Can you just,” the other girl sighed. “I’m in Fisher, ground floor. Do you mind just coming over and sorting this out?”

Lexa froze, her body tense and heart slowly thumping away. Fisher wasn’t far - it was only a block away. It wasn’t likely someone else was going to call - and really, it was the I.T. department. Nobody was going to raise alarms if a call was missed every now and then. Heck, it was expected.

“Yeah.” Lexa said, almost automatically. Her eyes grew wide as her mouth betrayed her. “What’s your room number?”

“G3. Uh, I should probably give you my number as well - so you can call me when you’re outside? My roommate’s asleep, and it’s - you know. Probably shouldn’t knock.”

“Right.” Lexa hurriedly scrambled for a notepad, jotting the digits down. “Okay, I’ll be - uh, over in a minute, then.”

“Cool. Thanks.”

“Yup.” Lexa said, a thought catching her moments before she hung up. “Oh - what’s your name, by the way?”

“Oh, right. It’s, um - it’s Clarke.”

“Clarke.”

Clarke hummed in acknowledgement. “And yours?”

“My - It’s Lexa.” Lexa said, standing up from her chair. “Alright then, Clarke, I’ll be over in a minute.”

 

> _“Anya are you up”_
> 
> _“I am now. What u want”_
> 
> _“Im going to a cute girl’s dorm to fix her computer.”_
> 
> _“What”_
> 
> _“I mean i don’t know if she’s cute. She sounded cute.”_
> 
> _“Might not be a computer either. Probably a laptop.”_
> 
> _“Nice. way to fit the stereotype of the gay i.t. consultant.”_
> 
> _“Is that a stereotype?”_
> 
> _“I dont know. Call me when you’re done.”_
> 
> _“Wait”_
> 
> _“Text me.”_
> 
> _“Do not call me lexa.”_
> 
> _“Don’t you dare.”_
> 
> _“Lexa?”_

 

Clarke picked up almost immediately when Lexa called her. It was to be expected though - she knew Lexa was coming, and Lexa doubted that Clarke had much to distract her in the minutes it took for Lexa to trudge down the block. Lexa on the other hand didn’t know what to expect.

“Hey,” Clarke smiled, opening the door. Her bright blue eyes grew wide as they fell upon Lexa. “Thanks for coming.”

Lexa nodded, stepping through the door. “No problem.”

“Cute sweater.” Clarke said, closing the door behind Lexa.

“Thanks,” Lexa said, tugging at the burgundy wool. “Cute -”

Her eyes ran over Clarke, from her short, blonde curls, to a jet-black tanktop, to the white shorts that clung to lithe legs like -

“- place you’ve got, here.” Lexa said, tearing her eyes away from Clarke, desperately hoping that Clarke hadn’t caught her staring.

It wasn’t a cute place. It was messy; shoes piled up by the door, bags filled with miscellaneous clothes taking up most of the space on an old, lumpy couch. Against a wall, a half-filled canvas sat upon a gigantic easel, behind which sat a dozen or so half-finished masterpieces. Bottles seemed to be a recurring theme, either lined up in front of the television, or upon the coffee table, or beside the easel, with some being used to hold paintbrushes.

Still, the place did have a bizarre, poetic sort of charm to it, like a shopping cart stuck in a riverbed.

“So - what’s the problem?” Lexa said, as Clarke led her into her room. To be fair, Clarke’s room was much tidier than the communal area; the only mess in the room being a full laundry hamper that seemed to be avoiding Lexa’s gaze out of embarrassment.

Clarke sighed, dropping into a desk chair in front of an ancient looking laptop. “Look - so, when go to the Dropbox link to submit my… er, wait for it. It’s loading. Okay, so I click this one here, right? And my professor gave me the password to the folder…”

Lexa nodded and hummed in response as Clarke replayed her steps across the screen, but her mind was wandering elsewhere. Instead of the screen, Lexa found herself watching Clarke, watching the way she tucked her leg under her as she sat, fidgeting impatiently. She watched as a wrinkle formed on her brow in frustration, the way she bit her lip in annoyance. She watched as clarke folded her arms across her chest, the way she rolled her eyes and the way her bare shoulders slumped in resignation.

_Anya was right. Fuck, if there wasn’t a stereotype before, then there sure as hell is one now._

“... So yeah,” Clarke said, staring daggers into a permanently buffering webpage. “That’s the gist of it.”

Lexa shook herself from her moment of weakness, sheepish in the fact she hadn’t paid any attention to what Clarke was saying. Still, a quick glance told her what she needed to know.

“Have you tried using a different browser?”

“A different what?”

“You’re using Chrome.” Lexa gestured. “Have you tried IE?”

Clarke scrunched her face. “I thought IE was crap.”

“I mean; it _is_.” Lexa smirked. “But the University builds their framework around IE, so -” She glanced down to meet an absent expression on Clarke’s face. She laughed, gesturing for Clarke to stand up. “Here, let me.”

Clarke shrugged, sliding off the chair. “Be my guest.”

“Okay,” Lexa said, sinking into the chair as Clarke hovered over her. “Have you saved everything here?”

“Uh,” Clarke hummed, glancing over the half-dozen tabs she had open in Chrome. “I think so.”

“So, I can close these?”

“Yeah, should be fine.”

Lexa moved the mouse to the corner of the screen, and closed the _first_ chrome window.

In the years to follow that day, the words _should be fine_ were like a little secret joke between Clarke and Lexa. Whenever anyone would say _should be fine_ around them, Lexa would smirk and glance in Clarke’s direction, and Clarke would roll her eyes in return, though the smallest tinge of pink would creep its way into Clarke’s cheeks regardless. If asked, Lexa would grin, ready to launch into a story, but unsurprisingly Clarke would always drag Lexa off due to an unforeseen, unavoidable emergency.

Because when Lexa closed the first chrome window, Clarke’s second _incognito_ window appeared right behind it.

Lexa froze.

There sat in front of their eyes was a video, paused, depicting a gratuitous and salacious scene. A gorgeous blonde woman lay bare upon a bed, frozen in her moment of ecstasy, mouth agape in a silent scream of pleasure as another dark haired, toned _goddess_ held her hands against her, searching the blonde woman’s body with obvious and sinister intentions, as her eyes dripped with lust, and as her tongue slipped into -

“O… oh.” Lexa said quietly, eyes wide.

“ _Fuck_ ,” Clarke said, much louder. “I am - _fuck_ , sorry,” Clarke snatched the mouse from Lexa’s hand, scrambling to close the second window. “That was - I’m such a fucking _idiot_ , I’m... ”

The second window disappeared, but the image was burned deep into Lexa’s eyes. As she stared dead-on at Clarke’s comparatively nondescript background, Clarke stepped away, arms folded across her stomach, and a sheepish, wincing expression on her face.

Lexa reached gingerly for the mouse. “... So, you, uh - you’re going to want to open up IE - I’m going to need you to login to your University account again…”

After a moment’s hesitation, Clarke moved to lean over Lexa, typing in her username and password. Lexa made no motion to lean away, but she could feel the impossibly warm heat radiating from Clarke.

An on-screen graphic showed a successful login. “Right, okay - you need to update something… there we go. Now, try uploading your, uh - your essay from here.”

Lexa slid from the chair, and watched as Clarke silently re-uploaded her essay with ease.

“All done.” Lexa said.

“Easy.” Clarke laughed sheepishly.

Lexa practically floated back to the front door, wafted onwards by the strong sense of hot embarrassment that seemed to fill the room. She stood back while Clarke unlocked and opened the door, but paused when Clarke gestured towards her.

“So, hey - listen,” Clarke said, rubbing the back of her neck. “Thanks, for your help.”

Lexa gave a red-faced smile. “It was nothing.”

Clarke shook her head. “No, really - I was freaking _out_ , because it was due tomorrow morning, and - well, you pretty much saved my life.”

Lexa chuckled quietly. “Well - you’re welcome, I guess.”

“Yeah - and sorry about the, uh -”

Lexa’s eyes grew wide again as she hurriedly threw on her shoes. “Don’t worry about it -”

“- No, I mean, it’s just that -”

“- Seriously, I get it -”

“- I’m not -”

“- Sure, yeah -”

“- Stress, you know.”

“- Of course.”

“Yeah.” Clarke smiled, turning a lovely shade of red. “Listen, um… that was my last assignment, so I _was_ planning in on sleeping in tomorrow morning.” Clarke said, pouting at the audacity of her own gambit. “But if you’re free after your shift - and, I mean, _if_ you want, do you want to… I _dunno_ ; grab a coffee? Breakfast, maybe? Just as a way for me to say… Thanks?”

Lexa blinked in awe at Clarke’s bravado. On one hand, a very, very large part of her mind was telling her _not to accept;_ After all, the only thing that Lexa knew about Clarke was her preferred porn categories.

A much larger part of Lexa’s brain was melting at the earnest, honest look in Clarke’s eyes.

Lexa smiled, shrugging. “Sure. I mean - my shift ends at 3AM, and I’m probably going to sleep in until 10 anyway… but if you’re still up around then?”

Clarke beamed at Lexa. “Sounds like a plan.” Clarke said, holding out her hand.

Lexa glanced at it hesitantly.

Clarke rolled her eyes. “I mean - I _washed_ my hands.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> whee. Hope you enjoyed it! I'll get back to writing hey there neighbour, I promise.


End file.
